And now I knowSpanish Harlem are not just pretty words to sayI thought I knewBut now I know that rose trees never grow in New York City

Until you've seen these trash can dreams come trueYou stand at the edge while people run you throughAnd I thank the Lordthere's people out there like youI thank the Lordthere's people out there like you

While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatterssons of bankers, sons of lawyersturn around to say good morning to the nightFor unless they see the skybut they can't and that is whythey know not if it's dark outside or light

This Broadway's gotIt's got a lot of songs to singIf I knew the tune I might join inOh, and go my way aloneGrow my ownmy own seeds shall be sown in New York City

Subway's no way for a good man to go downRich man can ride and the hobo he can drownAnd I thank the Lordfor the people I have foundI thank the Lordfor the people I have found

Oh, While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatterssons of bankers, sons of lawyersturn around and say good morning to the nightFor unless they see the skybut they can't and that is whythey know not if it's dark outside or light

And now I knowSpanish Harlem are not just pretty words to sayI thought I knewbut now I know that rose trees never grow in New York City

Until you've seen these trash can dreams come trueYou stand at the edge while people run you throughAnd I thank the Lordthere's people out there like youI thank the Lordthere's people out there like you

While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatterssons of bankers, sons of lawyersturn around to say good morning to the nightWell, unless they see the skybut they can't and that is whythey know not if it's dark outside or lightThey know not if it's dark outside or light